Treacherous
by winterlights13
Summary: Taylor Swift usually thinks before she acts. But when an attractive Italian enters her life, he's like quicksand. Will he change her life for the better? Or will she lose more than she ever thought she would when she lets him sweep her off her feet?
1. Gravity

**My new Taylor fic lies before you. I hope you enjoy it, and please tell me what you think!**

I was actually looking for the hostess of the party. I was ready to leave; these LA parties had never really appealed to me. The only reason I'd come in the first place was that Austin had been bugging me about it for a long time. The life of the rich celebrities in the city seemed to have a magnetic pull for him. I would have to drag him away from those girls in the corner; he seemed to be having way too much fun. I smiled to myself and looked around. The hostess was occupied with some other guests, laughing and dancing. It was obviously going to be a while before I could leave. I couldn't just walk out. I sighed and walked toward the drinks. I took another champagne.

That's when I saw him.

He was standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall. He seemed to be alone. His hair was short and black, his skin a light bronze. His suit was clearly expensive, but he was wearing it nonchalantly, with his sleeves casually rolled up. He wasn't wearing his jacket; it was tucked over the arm rest of the chair next to him. His tie was flawlessly tied and his stubble beard was professionally trimmed. His dark brown eyes were fixed on me, watching me with an expression of curiosity and anticipation. He started walking towards me in a casual manner. His eyes were still locked on mine. It left me breathless. I felt the glass of champagne slip through my fingers, but I couldn't move. And then he was suddenly next to me, taking the glass as it was about to fall.  
"Let me help you," he said with the hint of a smile. His voice sounded deep and warm, with traces of a European accent I didn't immediately recognise. He offered me the glass and I automatically took it.  
"Are you sure you want that? It's not very good champagne, actually." He whispered the last statement with a dazzling smile, leaning closer to me so I could understand.  
I couldn't quite seem to find my voice. "Well, I-"  
"Never mind," he laughed. "One can't appreciate the good without tasting drinks like this." He took a glass of his own and took a sip. He made a face when he swallowed it.  
I was still staring at him. I blinked and tried to compose myself.  
"Well, in that case, thanks for saving it," I said as charmingly as I could. He laughed.  
"I should introduce myself. My name is Lucio."  
"I'm Taylor."  
He looked around the room, his dark eyes curiously scanning the people at the party.  
"Did you come alone?" He casually looked back to me.  
"No," I replied, feeling nervous under his intense gaze. "I came here with my brother."  
"Ah," he said softly and he easily spotted Austin in the corner, resting his eyes on him for a few seconds. Then he looked back to me, with the smile in his eyes again.  
I decided to make small talk.  
"Do you often go to parties like this?" I asked.  
"Well, when I'm in LA, sometimes I do. I decline most invitations. Usually I don't feel like faking an interest for cheap champagne." He smiled at his own joke. "You?" He took another sip from his drink. I wondered what kind of invitations he usually got. I didn't recognise him as a member of the LA scene. But then again I didn't spend much time in it, so I didn't know all the faces.  
"Not really. I'm only here because my brother wanted to go." I was also scanning the room, trying to see if he'd come alone. It was difficult to keep my eyes off his face for long. It was like a gravitational force.  
"Did you want to leave?" He asked, misinterpreting my attitude.  
"No," I said quickly. I suddenly didn't feel the need to go anymore.  
"I could drive you home if you want to leave earlier than your brother," he offered.  
I arranged my thoughts, slightly baffled. No one had ever offered to give me a lift quite this soon after meeting me. '_You shouldn't accept it'_, a voice in my head whispered. Of course I shouldn't. I just met this guy.  
But I wanted to.

_'Just go with him'_, a different voice in my head whispered. _'You never do anything like this. Just this once, do what you want.'_ I hesitated. This was stupid.  
"Sure, that's very kind of you," I heard myself say.  
What? What did I just tell him?  
"All right then," he said and he gave me another brilliant smile. I suddenly couldn't remember the objections my conscience had made. Why not go with him? He was obviously a nice man.  
"I'm ready when you are," he said.  
Was he in such a hurry too? Well, I didn't feel like staying if he, the only interesting person here, was leaving anyway. I decided I would text Austin that I was leaving with someone I knew; I didn't want to drag him out of his favourite corner. And I certainly didn't want him to be worried.  
After I'd done that, I looked at Lucio and smiled.  
"Ready?" he asked.  
"Yes," I said and we walked toward the exit. Then I remembered the hostess.  
"Shouldn't we-"  
"No, she won't mind if we leave without saying goodbye. She's way too busy with her _friends_ over there," he sneered. I was paying more attention to his voice than to what he said. It was warm, yet with a cold edge that snuck in sometimes, and his accent made his sentences more melodic. He also spoke with a sense of authority; everything about him seemed to exude power, even though his attitude was nonchalant. I had to admit it to myself - it was extremely attractive.  
I followed him to the wardrobe, and he took my coat and held it out for me. I put my arms in and he helped me into it, as I wondered how he knew that it was mine.  
He held the door open for me like a gentleman, and I walked out into the cold. I shivered; I should've brought a scarf or something. He wasn't wearing a coat, and yet he didn't even blink when we walked outside. His jacket was tucked over his arm.  
"Don't worry, my car is not too far away," he assured me, while linking his other arm with mine. I was surprised by this subtle gesture; it felt protective. I'd never felt this way with someone I'd just met; adrenaline was pumping through my veins and yet I felt safe and secure.  
We reached his car, a black, expensive-looking Mercedes, and he opened the passenger door for me.  
It smelled like expensive leather inside. He got into the car, threw his jacket in the back seat and I heard the soft purr of the engine. He drove away and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.  
Just as I was expecting him to ask for directions to my house, he asked: "Do you mind if we stop by my apartment first?"  
Immediately, all the alarm bells in my mind went off. This was everything my mother had warned me against. They get you into their car, lure you to their home and then...  
I needed to get out. Right now. If I asked him to pull over, maybe he would and I could escape. As soon as I could get out of the car, people would be able to hear me scream.  
So why wasn't I moving? Why wasn't I asking him to stop?  
"Taylor?" He glanced at me.  
The sense of safety his presence provided was enough to drown out my screaming conscience. I wanted to go with him.  
"Yes, that's okay," I replied, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

We were there in less than five minutes. The apartment building was big, but not as fancy as I'd expected. The outside looked like it wasn't being taken good care of. The windows I could see were simple and dirty.

As soon as we got to his front door, I could see that I'd been mistaken. In contrast to the rest of the building, his door was impeccably clean and made out of dark ebony. He opened it and led me through the doorway.  
Inside, the light was already on. The golden light gave the room a warm atmosphere – which it didn't need to look stunning. The couches were covered with beige leather. The tables and chairs were made of the most valuable wood. The Persian rugs looked so soft I wanted to take my shoes off and walk across them barefoot. The walls were painted dark red and the ceiling was covered in gold figures. I looked around in awe. Even in the wealthiest neighbourhoods I'd never seen anything like this. He noticed my wonder.  
"It's not much, but it's home," he said with a smile.  
I laughed and looked at him. He was suddenly standing much closer than I'd thought. I felt his hand on my waist. I froze. He softly touched my face and pressed me to the wall. I could hear my heartbeat speeding and my breath coming in uneven gasps. He brought his face to my collarbone.  
"Taylor," he whispered, and I could feel his warm breath against my neck. He pressed his lips to my skin, moving upwards with gentle kisses until he reached my mouth. I saw his dark eyes burning with passion. Then he pressed his lips to my mouth, drowning me in darkness.


	2. Reckless

I put my hands to his chest and tried to push him away, but he was too strong. His kisses were becoming more forceful by the second and I couldn't do anything. He probably wasn't even noticing my resistance. He held my face in his hands and I could barely move.  
I knew I was supposed to be terrified. But I wasn't.  
However forcefully he was holding me, it didn't feel threatening. The light scent of his aftershave, the feeling of his stubbles against my face, the sweet Italian words he whispered in between the kisses – it all provided a sense of safety I'd never felt before.  
I kissed him back. My fingers went through his hair and I heard my breathing speed to match my heartbeat. He groaned softly and lowered his lips to my neck again. I held my eyes closed and shuddered as his lips touched my throat.  
I lost track of time.  
I felt the pressure of his body on mine weaken, and I opened my eyes to see him putting his arm under my knees and lifting me up. I felt dizzy and rested my head on his shoulder. I couldn't care less where he was taking me, as long as he wouldn't let go of me.  
Above me, I saw the golden ceiling and then the curtains of a four-poster bed. And then it dawned on me.  
He was carrying me into the bedroom.  
_Oh no._  
This involuntary thought shocked me. I wasn't feeling scared or reluctant. I was disappointed.  
The realisation sunk in. I was obviously nothing more to him than a fling. A one-night adventure.  
Of course I was. He'd met me at the party, and five minutes later he'd taken me with him. What did I expect?  
Secretly, I'd hoped to be something more to him than that. Silly me.  
Well, there was no way this was happening. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but he'd already pushed me down onto the bed and he was kissing my neck again. It blurred my thoughts. The only sound I managed to make was a muddy grumble.  
I closed my eyes and surrendered.

The next thing I saw was the light falling in through the high windows. I groaned and put my arm over my eyes to hold onto the darkness. The pillow had an unfamiliar, sweet scent. Where was I? This wasn't my bed.  
A few seconds later, reality caught up with me and I jerked upright.  
"Good morning, miss Taylor," I heard. I quickly turned my head and saw him standing to the left of the bed, facing away from me, fastening his tie while looking in the mirror. I could see his face in the reflection, just like my own figure sitting in the bed with my hair all tangled and my lips dry. I looked like a mess, so I quickly looked back to him. He was wearing black trousers and a black blouse with long sleeves. As he pulled the knot of his tie, I could see a smug smile on his face.  
I closed my eyes and pushed a lock of hair out of my face. I felt panic forming in my chest. "Did I... Did we-"  
"Trust me, you'd remember if we had," he said conceitedly. He studied himself in the mirror with satisfaction as I collapsed back into the pillows in relief. Then, a different emotion took hold of me. I could just slap him in his beautiful, arrogant face. Who did he think he was?  
I pushed the sheets back and put my feet on the floor. The floor heating was on, and it felt pleasantly warm. I realised that I was only wearing my underwear. I quickly grabbed my skirt, which was draped over a chair, and stepped into it.  
"What did you think you were doing?" I snapped.  
He turned around in surprise. "What do you mean?"  
"You know bloody well what I mean." I zipped up my skirt and looked for my blouse. He took it off the floor where he was standing and threw it at me.  
"Well, it sure didn't seem like you were objecting." He frowned.  
"You didn't give me the chance to!" I shrieked. I put my arms into my blouse.  
He gloated. "Right. You hated every second of it." He took a step towards me. "Don't go home with me and then call me out on it. You know as well as I do that I did nothing wrong." His accent seemed to be more pronounced when he was angry. It was actually quite– no, stop. Don't think about that.  
"Well, then we have nothing more to talk about." I buttoned up my blouse.  
He chuckled arrogantly. "If you say so."  
I looked at him incredulously. How had he seemed so nice and attractive last night? Now that he'd gotten what he wanted, the façade was gone and he was just like the rest of them. I could just kick myself for falling for it.  
I picked up my bag from the floor and walked past him.  
"I'll let myself out."  
He walked with me anyway. "Until we meet again, miss Taylor," he said when I walked out the door. I shot him a furious glance as I walked away and saw that he was still standing there, smiling.


	3. Sleepless

Where was that bloody phone? I let out an exasperated sigh and rummaged around in my bag once more before turning it upside down and letting the content fall onto my kitchen table. Planner, tissues, mascara. I moaned and gave up. I was sure that I'd had it in my bag. What would I do without a phone?  
I counted on my fingers where I'd been since I'd last seen it. The grocery store. The cab. And I'd had it at the party... I could have left it in the cab. I deliberately skipped a part of the previous night in my mind. Yes, I'd probably forgotten it in the taxi. I walked over to my house phone in the living room and dialled the taxi number. As usual, Greg answered at the first ring. I suspected he didn't pay attention to traffic rules when it came to answering his clients. Being in his car was quite frightening at times, but he was a nice guy who at least didn't make any detours.  
"Greg's cab service," his familiar, husky voice muttered. I could hear claxon sounds in the background.  
"Hi, it's Taylor,"  
"Hey, Taylor," he said, his voice a little brighter.  
"I was just wondering if I'd left my phone in your car yesterday?"  
There was a moment of silence. He was probably checking the back seat while manoeuvring the streets.  
"No," he answered. "I don't remember seeing it last night either."  
"Okay," I sighed. "Thanks though."

Someone had probably taken it. I couldn't have left it at the party, because I remembered texting Austin when I left. And I couldn't have left it _there_, because... well, I just couldn't. I knew that I'd put everything in my bag before I left. I didn't even use my phone there. At least I would make sure to try every option before showing up at his door again. I sighed with frustration.  
The phone rang. I felt a sudden burst of hope and answered. Maybe he'd found it.  
"Yes?" I said.  
"Hey," I heard at the other end. It was Liz.  
Hiding my disappointment, I greeted her enthusiastically. "Hey Liz! How are you?"  
"I'm good," she answered. "How was the party?"  
Right. I'd told her I would tell her everything, because she couldn't make it. She was the one who suggested I take Austin instead, because he'd been wanting to go for so long.  
"It was... fun." Yes. Fun sounded good. Innocent.  
"Fun?" she persisted. She was never content with answers shorter than a paragraph.  
"Yes, it was..." I looked for words which sounded normal enough without lying to her. "...great. Austin had a good time."  
"And what about you? Did you meet any nice people?" she asked eagerly.  
I realised that I'd only talked to one person last night. I was pretty sure that I hadn't even talked to the host. But then, I found my memory of the party to be quite muddy. There were only certain moments that I recalled with perfect clarity...  
Okay then. There was only one option. I'd lie.  
"Yes, some people were nice," I said. "I chatted with some people about... touring and stuff."  
I took a breath and started pacing up and down the living room. I wasn't used to lying, especially not to her. It was terrifying.  
But well. What was wrong with editing a little? It wasn't like everyone needed to know about my... stupidity. I would be a joke. Others would inevitably find out.  
_It's Liz you're talking to_, a voice in my head reminded me. True. We shared everything. Now that I thought about it, I'd never deliberately edited anything out when talking to her. She wouldn't tell anyone and she wouldn't think I was a joke.  
"Cool," she said. "Anyone I know?"  
It was safe to tell her. I always trusted her completely.  
...but I was ashamed. My friends always thought of me as the sensible one, the grown-up one. I couldn't do it.  
"No, I don't think so," I answered, walking around the living room table. "It wasn't that interesting, actually."  
"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "Well, I'll call you later."  
"Okay," I said.  
After she hung up, I stared at the phone in my hand for a few minutes.  
So that was it. I guess I had a secret now.  
_Secret_.  
The thought felt heavy in my stomach. I'd never had a secret for my friends before.  
Feeling guilty, I put down the phone and walked back into the kitchen to clean my plate. I'd have to get a new phone sooner or later, if I didn't find it.  
I scrubbed the plate – I had a habit of cleaning up after myself immediately, so it wouldn't be piling up in the sink – and considered my options.  
I would call the building the party had been held in, just in case. And I would revisit the store. And maybe I would call Austin if he'd seen it anywhere – as if that would help.  
I refused to think of the last option. That was only a last resort. Actually, I would rather get a new phone than go back to that apartment.  
With renewed determination, I put the plate back into the cupboard and went to my computer to look up the phone number of the party venue.

A few hours later, I was sitting on my bed after several fruitless attempts to track down my phone. It hadn't been found at the party. I didn't leave it in the store. Austin hadn't seen it anywhere. And I'd searched the whole house, but it was gone.  
Great.  
I rubbed my eyes and rested my head on my hands, with my elbows in my lap. Well, I was pretty sure where it was now, if it hadn't been stolen. But after my dramatic exit, I couldn't set aside my pride and go back there. I closed my eyes and saw his smug smile burning behind my lids. No. I wouldn't do that to myself. For the sole reason of avoiding the humiliation.  
I decided I might as well go to bed, as I had a busy day tomorrow. After brushing my teeth and changing, I went to bed and turned off the light.  
It was worse in the dark.  
I couldn't escape his face, his smile, in my mind. I felt his soft touch on my skin every time I closed my eyes, and even when I held them open, the scent of his room was stuck in my head. My blankets weren't as soft, and it wasn't quite as warm. But the feeling was almost exactly the same.  
I felt his lips on my neck, his warm breath against my cheek.  
It took me a long time to fall asleep.


	4. Eye to eye

**I apologise for not updating for so long! I've just started uni and I need to get used to everything so I didn't have much inspiration. Hopefully you'll like this chapter, and I'd love to hear what you think, so please review! **

I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. I felt a beginning headache and the bright light flowing through the window hurt my eyes. I hit the snooze button and put my arm over my eyes to hold onto the darkness a little longer. I sensed that it was going to be a great day. Ugh.  
I had a packed schedule today. I had rehearsals, two interviews and some video shoot for Diet Coke. I was going to have to look happy all day. And on top of that, I needed to find my phone.  
I pulled myself upright, put my feet on the cold floor and rubbed my eyes. I could almost feel the early morning messages flowing in. People who needed me, things I needed to remember. I was going to have to find it as soon as possible.  
I got up and shrugged into my robe, which was draped over the chair next to my bed. I put on my glasses and stumbled to the kitchen, where I threw some cereal into a bowl and automatically reached for my phone while adding milk. With an annoyed sigh, I took a spoon and ate breakfast while leaning against the counter.  
After a rushed shower and an attempt to blow-dry my hair in a few minutes, I gave up and put it in a pony tail. I didn't worry about putting on makeup; they would take it off anyway before the shoot. I grabbed my bag and my car keys and left.

In the next few days, I didn't find my phone. I felt drained by the secret I had to keep, even if it didn't come up in conversation. I was terrified of anyone finding out, even though not much happened. If I hadn't been famous, it would have been different. I would just have been another girl making mistakes and learning from them. But in my situation, one misstep could be my downfall. And to make matters worse, I probably had dozens of unanswered messages.

On Thursday I was making my way to the city so I could go and buy a new phone. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to find it and I couldn't live without my connection to everyone I knew any longer. I felt so stressed out every time I thought about all the people that probably needed me right now. I pulled my sleeves over my hands and sped up my pace. I should've gone by car. It was freezing cold for October. But then I wasn't used to the cold anymore since I lived in Nashville. I decided to pop into Starbucks to get a warm cup of coffee before I went on my search for a new phone.  
When I walked through the door, the warmth surrounded me like a blanket. I walked towards the line for the counter and let out a sigh of contentment. The sound made the person who was standing in front of me turn around.  
I almost gasped. It was Lucio.  
I quickly looked around if anyone saw us, as if they would be able to see in our minds what had happened. He looked at me amusedly, with a smile in his dark eyes.  
"Hello, miss Taylor," he said with that hint of an Italian accent.  
"Hi," I whispered. I wanted to sink through the floor.  
"How have you been?" he asked politely.  
"Fine. What about you?" Good. Small talk. We would get out as soon as we had our coffee and never see each other again. Even when he was being polite, I could see the arrogance behind his innocent eyes.  
"Me too. It's been boring without you, though," he said casually, like I was a friend who hadn't come over in a while. I nervously looked around as the queue moved a little bit. Lucio reached into his pocket.  
"That reminds me. I've got something that's yours. I was hoping to run into you one of these days."  
He held it in front of me. It was my phone. With a relieved smile, I took it.  
"Thank you! So I did leave it at..." I spoke softer. "At your house."  
"Yes, I found it on the floor."  
Did he find joy in making me cringe? I was glad I didn't know anyone else in the shop.  
"Thanks," I said embarrassedly. Then, he did something I wasn't expecting.  
"I wanted to apologise for what happened last week," he said with honesty in his eyes. "I shouldn't have... behaved the way I did."  
I was so baffled that I accepted his apology. "That's okay," I said softly. I always failed to hold a grudge against someone. Whenever they apologised, I forgave them. It wasn't weakness; I was just too nice to stay mad. In the past few days, my anger had faded away and had been replaced by guilt and shame, even though I still didn't feel warmly towards him. I had been my fault too – I shouldn't have got into his car to begin with.  
"I want to make it up to you," he said. "Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow evening."  
I was free tomorrow night. But he had proven to be a jerk. He could see that I was going to refuse.  
"I insist."  
...But his eyes were doing the same thing to me as they had last week. They made me feel unsteady and this time, I didn't see the point in fighting it. Just this once, maybe I would just... I mean, it wasn't like it was anything more than an apology. It was probably perfectly normal in Italy to take a woman out to dinner when you wanted to make it up to her. I just needed to adapt to different cultures. And it wouldn't be awkward; he was a good talker.  
"I'll take you to a very special place," he told me when he saw my apprehensive smile.


End file.
